Gifts
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: Even in an ancient realm like Asgard, reminders are needed as to the true heart of Christmas. And some reminders come in the form of gifts. Fallen Star Universe. Sequel to "Aurora."
1. Chapter 1

_A heartfelt Merry Christmas to all of my dear readers—this is your reward for supporting my original work! I am nothing without you._

_I incorporate certain concepts into this tale with the permission and blessing of Loki and Jane on Facebook:)_

_The lyrics at the beginning of each chapter are from the Sara Bareillis song "Christmas is Love." Have a listen—it's utterly beautiful._

_For the THIRD and FOURTH sections, I listened to "Touch the Sky" from the Brave soundtrack._

_Enjoy!_

_VVVVV_

_Even in an ancient realm like Asgard, reminders are needed as to the true heart of Christmas. And some reminders come in the form of gifts. Fallen Star Universe. Sequel to "Aurora."_

_GIFTS_

_Alydia Rackham_

_ONE_

"_I don't care if the house is packed_

_Or if the strings of light are broken._

_I don't care if the gifts are wrapped,_

_Or there's nothing here to open._

_Love is not a toy_

_And no paper will conceal it_

_Love is simply joy_

_That I'm home."_

_-Christmas is Love, Sara Bareillis_

Jane slowly awoke to the sensation of movement—a smooth, onward rushing beneath her, surrounding her…

Warmth wrapped all around her body, her face. Warmth and softness. She took a deep breath, sighed, and opened her eyes.

Darkness. Darkness that smelled of the must of animal pelts, and—

Frost.

She blinked, and sat up slightly, taking another sleepy breath. Here and there, with the gentle rocking and swaying, a gap would open in the darkness, letting in a slice of pure white light. She slid her right hand out from beneath the settled heat of the furs and reached out to her left. Her fingers bumped into a shoulder, a chest, a collar of fur-lined leather.

"Loki," she said groggily, pulling her hand back to rub her face. "Is it morning?"

He sucked in a short breath, telling her that she'd woken him up.

"Erm…" He cleared his throat, and shifted next to her. "I believe so..."

Jane was suddenly awake.

"Well, open the top, then!"

"Jane, it is very cold outside—"

"I don't care," Jane declared, sitting up further and leaning back against the short wall. "I want to see!"

Loki cleared his throat again, sat up as well and scooted closer to her, then reached over her head to tug on a cord.

With three sharp tugs and three quick _shinks_, the low velvet ceiling above them split apart—

Jane flinched, shielding her eyes…

Then opened them with a gasp.

A tall, vividly-blue sky towered overhead, and a bright, light-yellow sun shot dazzling rays through the few clouds. And all around them, in smooth, rolling, utterly-smooth white hills, lay the snow-covered countryside of Asgard.

Four black horses, adorned in jingling silver bells, swiftly pulled Jane and Loki's light, sleek sledge across the rushing snow, its runners whispering and laughing like distant wind through icicles. The thick-haired horses needed no driver—they knew the way by heart. The nipping wind blustered twinkles of ice through the air, like minute fairies caught in sunbeams. Jane grinned, wrapping her furs closer around her throat, and sat up to see the rest of the procession.

"Thor!" she shouted. "How far?"

Thor, seated beside his gray-haired father in the broad, golden sledge ahead of them, turned, his white-fur-clad shoulders and beamed at her. His sunny hair blew across his face.

"Not far!" he called back over the jingle of the bells. "We should be able to see it soon!"

"I'm so excited," Jane shivered, snuggling back down closer to Loki. He wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her closer, curling the fingers of his left hand through her fingers. She sensed something, frowned, tilted her head back, and looked at him. He was smiling to himself—but looking at her.

"What?" she wondered. He gazed back at her, his infinite green eyes bright in the morning light, his raven hair dancing around his shoulders and framing his sharp, handsome face. His soft mouth quirked, and he turned toward the front again.

"_What?"_ Jane pressed, fascinated as always by every movement of his eloquent features.

"I have been attending the Snow Festival for more years than anyone can count," he said thoughtfully. His black eyebrows drew together. "The last few were… unpleasant for me. But this year…" His smile returned—his glance sparked at her. Jane smiled back at him.

"There it is!" Thor called. Jane sat up again, and so did Loki. Thor and Odin's sledge achieved the height of a rise and slowed to a halt. Thor pointed. Loki and Jane's sledge drew up beside them…

And Jane let out her breath in a slow rush.

Below them, in a deep, gentle valley, enclosed by steep, gray mountains, stood two opposing fortresses entirely made of snow.

They towered, perhaps eight stories each, glistening and shining in the sun. Each bore sturdy battlements, thick walls, parapets and towers with windows, and staircases wrapped around and around their sides. The flawless no-man's–land between them was bisected by a broad trench filled with glassy-smooth frozen water. Beyond the two castles waited a _huge _redtent with a hole in the center of the peak, through which a welcoming plume of smoke issued.

"King's Beard! The servants have entirely outdone themselves!" Fandral declared as his sledge, hauled by eight crimson horses, pulled up next to Loki and Jane's. Fandral's wooden sledge was very large, so Volstaag, Hogun and Steve Rogers accompanied him—they all were also wrapped in dark brown furs, and held silver mugs of steaming drink. Fandral half stood up to see down into the valley. The other three eagerly twisted and stood so they could see, too. Jane hid a smirk—they reminded her of little boys.

"What are _those _for?" Steve asked, his handsome face a picture of concern and concentration, his bright blue eyes studying the valley below.

"We're going to fight to the death using only ice and snow," Loki replied coolly. "A slow and painful passage into the afterlife—but a glorious one."

Steve turned and stared at him. Loki casually glanced the other way. Jane covered her mouth and gagged back a giggle. Volstaag suddenly burst out laughing and shoved Steve's shoulder, nearly spilling his drink.

"Hahaha!" Volstaag bellowed. "Look at your face!"

Fandral joined the laughter, and Hogun almost thought about it.

"Brother!" Thor called back.

"Sister?" Loki mocked, lifting his chin. Thor ignored it, twisting around again to face them.

"Shall we command the southernmost castle again?"

"Why not?" Loki gestured carelessly. "I enjoy the view. And perhaps you and I should each tie one hand behind our backs—to make it fair."

Odin chuckled—Jane heard him.

"I resent that!" Fandral cried. "We held our own quite well last year! As surely as _you _did!"

"Oh, you did?" Loki feigned thoughtfulness. "I seem to recall a certain tower collapsing at the base and falling on top of—"

"I only pretended to be unconscious!" Volstaag huffed, shaking the furs around him. "A little snow and ice is nothing!"

Loki grinned wickedly while Thor crowed. The other men glared at Loki, and Jane buried her face in her furs to stifle her laughing.

"Don't listen to him," a female voice from behind ordered. Jane lifted her head and turned to see Sif's sledge pull up behind, drawn by sleek bays. The black-haired lady pointed warningly at Volstaag, her midnight gaze sharp. "He is playing mind games with you."

"Yes, those are excellent fun," Loki purred, wagging an eyebrow at her. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I _will _kill you."

His grin only grew wickeder. The Queen Mother, who sat beside Sif, simply smiled in secret amusement and pulled her covering up closer to her chin. Frigg's dearest friend Eir, the fiery-haired chief healer; and Nanna, the young, pretty apprentice healer, sat with them—all but Sif wore white hooded cloaks. Sif was dressed and geared for battle—which Jane found very funny. But she kept that to herself.

"Good morning, Steven," Nanna turned her warm brown eyes to Steve Rogers and gave him a bright look, curls of her hair flickering around her face.

"Um, good…Good morning," Steve nodded to her, turning completely red. Nanna's look twinkled.

Jane straightened a little further, glanced back, and beamed at the shining sight of the long line of sledges carrying all the members of the royal court.

"Hang on, everyone!" Odin called. "Off we go!"

Jane obediently sat back down—and the next instant, the sledges took off, racing down the smooth track and into the chilly, shining valley.

LJLJLJLJL

"Attention, attention! Ladies and gentlemen of the court—may I present to you _your king!" _

"LONG LIVE THE KING!"

The great shout echoed against the mountains and rose up to the sky. Loki, standing on the side steps of the wooden dais in front of the scarlet tent, watched the gold-clad herald move away, and then Loki himself stepped back to let Thor, garbed in a long white cloak trimmed in fur, stride past him. Thor slapped a hand down on Loki's shoulder as he passed, and they exchanged a grin. Thor swept to the center of the dais, his heavy boots loud on the wood. He stopped, spread out his arms, his aspect as warm as summer sun, and raised his voice to the two hundred expectant, fur-and-wool-clad courtiers standing before him in the snow.

"Good morning!" he greeted them, his deep voice resounding. "And Happy Snow Festival!"

"HAPPY SNOW FESTIVAL!" Loki, and all the rest of them, answered at the top of their voices. Loki glanced past Thor at their mother and father, seated in padded and fur-lined wooden thrones, listening fondly as Thor spoke. Loki's hand closed around Jane's mitten—he turned down to the right and met her gaze. Her long hair fell down across the shoulders of her deep green, form-fitting coat. The light on the snow lit up her eyes. She shivered again in excitement, grinning, and shuffled closer to him. Loki turned back to his brother.

"On this, a day when we who have grown may once again play as children," Thor went on. "We are grateful for our lives, for our freedom, and for those precious ones near us who keep our homes bright, and our hearts safe. Today is a day of harmless fun and games of skill! Let us conduct ourselves with good humor and kindness—even as we try with all our might to bring each others' fortresses to the ground!"

Everyone roared with laughter and cheering. Odin and Frigg clapped. Thor chuckled deeply, then held up a hand.

"But first," he said. "I shall remind you of our code of conduct: No hardened ice shall be thrown purposefully into the face of any opponent, for any reason. No child may participate without the consent of his or her parents. No woman soon to bear a child may enter into any combat. All weapons and ammunition must be built from snow and ice and nothing more. And _herein _lies the challenge:" Thor gave them all a daring look and raised one finger. "Absolutely _no _magic of any kind may be wielded upon this field of battle. We shall fight until one castle falls, or evening falls—whichever happens first. The winning army shall be the first to taste the feast this night. The losers shall serve them!"

The courtiers all groaned and cheered simultaneously.

"As you stand," Thor shouted over them, then leveled his arm and pointed down the middle of the crowd. "Those of you to my left shall occupy the northernmost castle, commanded by Fandral the Dashing and his lieutenants Lady Sif, Hogun the Grim, and Volstaag the Valiant! Those to my right shall occupy the southernmost castle, to be commanded by the sons of Asgard!"

The crowd immediately rustled, separating into two armies, and shooting taunting looks and gestures to each other. Thor reached up and unclasped his cloak, took it off and handed it to their mother, revealing a leather jerkin and thick woolen trousers and shirt beneath, along with knee-high boots.

Thor stood still then, poised, sparkling eyes roving over the two armies. Everyone watched him, every breath held.

"To war!" Thor burst out, and leaped off the dais.

"_Raaahhh!" _the armies of men, women and children roared, turning and pelting with all their might toward their respective castles, leaving a stampede of footprints behind. Loki whirled, his long black coat swirling, grasped Jane's hands and pressed them melodramatically to his chest.

"My dearest, sweetest lady," he said, his voice dripping with overdone sentiment. Jane's delighted laugh rang out, but Loki mightily restrained his expression to one of heartbreak and longing.

"There is much to say—_too _much for this short time left to us—"

"_Loki!" _Jane giggled.

Loki sighed mightily and raised his eyes to the sky.

"Would I had told you how much you mean to me—"

"You already have."

Loki frowned down at her. She raised her eyebrows.

"I have?" he said in surprise.

"Yes. Frequently," she said, giving him a frank, sideways look.

"Ah. In that case…" He regathered her hands, took another breath, and resumed his melodrama. "Would that we had _more _time, so I could tell you again and again—"

"You're just stalling now," Jane accused.

Loki blinked, then grinned at her wolfishly.

"You're right, I am," he admitted, then bent and kissed her sharply on the cheek.

"Get going!" Jane chuckled, shoving him. With a purposefully-evil laugh, he turned and raced toward the castle.

LTLTLTL

"Thor!" Loki cried, grabbed his brother's collar and yanked. Thor crashed to the floor—

Just as a massive snowball exploded against the tower near where Thor's head had just been. Ice showered them, stinging Loki's cheek. Loki scrabbled back to his feet, hauling Thor with him. Panting, the two rested their hands on the frozen battlement and leaned out, searching the opposite castle—

Only for Volstaag's laughter to assault their hearing.

"Volstaag, you bearded dwarf!" Thor hollered, swiping at his face. "When I find you I'll—"

He didn't need to finish. Loki had snatched up a single snowball from the ammunition pile beside him, spun and hurled it with arrow-like precision. It screamed through the air, past the second-level enemy ramparts, and crushed Volstaag square in the broad forehead. He toppled.

"_HA!" _ Loki exulted, then swiped up another ball and threw it right on the heels of the first. "Watch where you are _throwing!"—_and he hit Fandral directly in the side of the head as he bent to help Volstaag. Fandral yelped, slipped and fell with a spectacular flail. Thor nearly started crying in an attack of bellowing laughter—he could hardly stand.

Loki, swiping the dewy snow off of his own face, allowed himself a satisfied smile, then sucked in a breath and slapped a hand down on Thor's shoulder. The two of them ducked down behind the wall as a torrent of misaimed snowballs suddenly pounded the walls all around them.

"We're running out of daylight," Loki noticed. "Time for drastic action."

Thor suppressed his chuckling, wiping his eyes.

"What do you advise?"

"We have to move out."

"Suppose they're not finished?" Thor said, clearing his throat. Loki gave a sideways glance at the other castle through an arrow hole.

"I haven't seen Sif in quite some time—and none of them have made a play for the middle ground for an hour," he said. "She's planning something—we have to catch that plan in the middle. It's now or never."

"Whatever you say," Thor grabbed Loki's collar and shook him firmly, then turned and hurried along the narrow rampart, Loki at his heels, snowballs striking the ice-white wall just behind him with vicious rapidity. Thor hopped down to a landing, then let out a thrilled howl as he grabbed an ice-beam, swung, and sat down on a plunging slide. He took off like a shot—his howl battered around the inside of the snow castle as he hurtled down and inside. Loki, not hesitating even an instant, leaped down after him, laying smoothly down on his back and folding his arms over his chest. He rocketed after Thor, watching the flickering view above him turn from bright white to vivid blue—the temperature dropped at least a dozen degrees as he swept inside the castle walls.

The end of the slide came suddenly—Thor lay at the bottom of it, trying to sit up—

Loki shoved off of the slick with both hands, righted himself, and leaped nimbly over his brother's head, landing like a cat. He spun, held out a hand, and Thor grasped it. Loki helped him up, and the two immediately strode forward through a small, dark corridor, in step.

They turned left and emerged into a large room with a broad hole in the center of the floor, and high bright windows in the north wall. The room bustled loudly with children, all ruddy-faced and eager, all covered in a dusting of snow. In hurried, laughing lines, they charged down into the tunnel, while others hurried out—the ones exiting all carried full buckets of snow, which they dumped into a huge pile. More children used that snow to quickly pack and pile snowballs, which they then hoisted with creaking wooden pullies to the upper battlements for ammunition. Steve Rogers, hunched over, clambered out of the shadowy tunnel just as Loki and Thor arrived.

"Hey, fellas," he greeted them happily, smiling and brushing the snow out of his hair and off of his blue woolen coat.

"Is it ready?" Loki asked. Steve tried to catch his breath as he raised his eyebrows.

"Well we've…We've got at least three branches for ya," he said, gesturing to the opening. "They go almost all the way to the moat-thing, or whatever that is."

"How far is 'almost'?" Thor asked. Steve shrugged.

"About ten meters from it."

"Good enough," Loki nodded, and looked to Thor. "Let's go."

Thor put his fingers between his teeth and whistled—the sound shrieked through the whole castle. Loki ducked, winced and covered his ear. Thor lowered his hand.

"All right, now that you've shattered my skull…" Loki muttered.

"You are such an infant," Thor shoved him.

Footsteps thundered overhead. Then, all the men and women—those who had just come of age to those who were on the edge of being crippled by age—hurtled down the stairs and began piling earnestly into the room. Then, all the children came out of the tunnel, and stood in alert lines, panting and wet.

"We're to make the final play now!" Thor shouted. "Enter the tunnels, then split yourselves evenly into the three of them! Prince Loki and Prince Steven will lead you! Our aim is the keep of their fortress—strike it hard enough in unison and it _will _fall! And I…" Thor stopped, and frowned at Loki. "What do I do, again?"

"You are the distraction," Loki answered. Thor grinned.

"Yes, I am."

"Ready?" Loki looked around. Everyone raucously called out that he was.

"For the Southern Castle!" Loki yelled, and grabbed Steve's forearm. The two of them raced forward and dove down into the tunnel, Thor on their heels—and all the court barreling after.

LJLJLJLJL

Jane, bundled up and sitting in a tall wooden chair on the dais between Frigg and Nanna, leaned over to the other young woman.

"Why didn't you want to play?" Jane asked her. "I'm so jealous—I can't wait to be able to do it next year."

Nanna flashed a smile at her.

"Oh, I'm terrible at it," she admitted. "I played some when I was younger, but I cannot throw to save my life, and I got tired of just building snowballs for other people. I actually think it is much more fun to watch!"

Jane laughed, then faced the front again—then sobered. She sat up, gazing out at the space between the two snow castles.

"Is it just me, or did it get quiet over there?" she asked Nanna, pointing toward the southern castle. Nanna narrowed her eyes. Then she nodded.

"Yes. I wonder what they're up to."

Jane watched some more—and realized that the battlements and towers of that castle now stood empty. Those manning the northern castle hesitated, listening and watching as well.

"Things are about to get interesting," Odin commented from the other side of Frigg.

Just then, a shout went up. Lady Sif charged out the front door of the northern castle, followed by Volstaag, Fandral and Hogun. Sif bore a shoulder bag filled with snowballs—so did the rest of them. Hogun even carried a shield of ice. The rest of the northern army spilled out of the castle as well, in hot pursuit. They all lined up on the edge of the moat, snowballs gripped in their hands, held at the ready.

Jane covered her mouth with her fingers, a thrill running through her as everything fell into deadly silence. Nobody moved for a moment.

Then another moment.

Another.

And then—

The snow on the other side of the moat directly in front of Sif _exploded_.

Sif leaped backward—

And Thor, drenched in snow, literally burst out of the ground. He threw the ice off himself, shaking like a lion's mane—

Leaped across the moat with one step, wrapped his arms around Sif and kissed her.

His embrace overpowered her—Sif's knees went limp and her head laid back and Thor pressed in deeper—she weakly wrapped her arms around his neck. Hogun, Volstaag and Fandral just gaped.

Jane let out a startled laugh—

And then the whole earth on the southern side of the moat ruptured.

The southern army surged out of the ground, Loki's black form and Steve's blue form at the head of the charge as they easily hopped over the frozen moat, barreled through the enemy lines and ran pell-mell toward the other castle.

"No!" Volstaag yelled. "No, no, no!" and he turned and hurried to pursue—but of course he was not fast enough.

The southern army coalesced into one long line, like a battering ram, and they hurtled through the main gate, lowering their heads and shoulders as they went. Fandral, Volstaag and Hogun's forces pelted them with snowballs, but to no avail.

_Thud. _

Jane gasped. The main tower, the Keep, of the northern castle shivered. And then it began to tilt forward.

"It's going to fall!" Jane cried, starting to her feet in alarm.

"That is the idea," Frigg explained. Jane's heart started to pound as the tower listed even further toward the southern castle, its great shadow falling down across her friends and family.

The southern army retreated hastily out from the castle. The battlements and walls crumbled—huge pieces of snow and ice tumbled and splintered. But Thor and Sif stayed where they were—bound together and completely oblivious.

Both armies scattered, darting _out _of the shadow of the leaning tower and toward the safety of the late afternoon sunshine. The shadow crossed over and covered Thor and Sif…

The base broke. The tower gave way and fell.

"Thor!" Jane choked, making hardly any sound. But her husband's voice shouted the same word, far louder—and Loki ran with all his speed straight at the two of them, a streak of black against the white.

Thor and Sif's mouths parted. Thor looked up—_stared _at the tower. Sif twisted to see and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, eyes wide.

Loki hit them. They staggered backward—

Their feet landed on the ice. They all skidded, yelped, tangled—

And collapsed into a flailing mass of arms and legs.

"Watch—" Jane called—

Just as the tower _smashed _down on top of them.

Everyone shouted in dismay. The icy dust settled.

Jane was already running.

She threw off her pelts, leaped off the dais and pounded over the snow, leaving deep footprints behind her. Both armies converged on the huge pile of snow and began digging through it, yelling to each other. Jane clambered between them, teetering on the edge of panic—

The center of the pile heaved once. Twice. A shimmering green flashed beneath the surface—

"Back up!" Fandral warned, waving people off.

The snow burst open. It shot up into the air, then cascaded in a glimmering rain down on the crowd. Jane raised her hands to shield her head…

Loki, tall and dark against the brilliant white, his black hair covered in snow, his clothes coated, rose up, half staggering. Both hands grasped Thor's shirt—Thor stumbled up with him, stunned and shaking himself off. His arms automatically pulled Sif up as well. All three of them stood half-leaning, off balance and puffing, trying to catch their breath and see straight. Loki brushed the ice out of his eyes, turned and focused on Thor—

Then bared his teeth, reached out with both hands and wildly scrubbed Thor's snowy hair.

"You idiot!" he scolded, finishing off by shoving his brother. "_You_ were supposed to distract _her!" _

Thor laughed so hard Jane thought he would fall over. Sif, her face crimson, tried not to giggle foolishly as she wiped the melted snow from her face. Thor raked a hand through his hair to straighten it, then dashed a large chunk of ice off Loki's shoulder.

Jane stood still, fighting to calm her breathing, shivers racing all over her skin. Loki halfway turned, then caught sight of her. He paused, smirked, stepped smoothly through the deep snow toward her. He towered over her—his hair and shoulders and the skin of his face sparkled with a sheen of frost. He lifted an eyebrow and appraised her expression, his green eyes vivid in the light.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing," Jane said, quickly shaking her head.

"You were worried," he accused.

"Nope."

He gave her an indignant look.

"You thought that I couldn't manage a little snow?"

"I wasn't thinking about that at all," Jane lied lightly. Loki sneered and leaned his head down closer to hers. Jane ignored him, looking elsewhere.

"I _actually _wanted to get to throw at least _one _snowball at you before—"

He caught her mouth with his—kissed her so deep that she forgot her entire sentence. She lost her balance and fell backward—he caught her, wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her against his snowy coat. Jane took a deep breath—_frost_, _bitter wind, evening fires_—and his soft lips tasted sweet as snow melted on her tongue.

_To be continued…_

_Review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far! Thank you!_

_I wrote this in the midst of wind and darkness and blustering snow. It may have helped;)_

_For the FIRST section, I listened to the Hobbit soundtrack "Misty Mountains Cold." The quiet one, that the dwarves sing:)_

_For the SECOND SECTION I listened to A Christmas Carol soundtrack "Main Title" and "Touch My Robe." (The *new* Christmas Carol)_

_For the THIRD section, I listened to the Thor soundtrack "Science and Magic." (Which is, if you think about it, the definition of Lokane, isn't it…?;)_

_Enjoy!_

_VVVVV_

_TWO_

"_I don't care if the carpet's stained_

_We've got food upon our table_

_I don't care if it's gonna rain_

_Our little room is warm and stable."_

_-Love is Christmas_

Jane's fingers closed around her wooden goblet, her subdued gaze drifting across the bright orange-and-yellow tongues of dancing fire in the center of the floor. The gray smoke wandered upward, toward the looming ceiling, toward a distant hole in the scarlet canvas—a hole through which she could see the black sky, and the glimmer of stars. Down at Jane's level, all the court and servants sat or reclined on thick stacks of furs and blankets and pillows. The warm air hung thick with the scent of the venison, turkey, boar and mince pies they had all just eaten, as well as the rich smell of burning cedar. She glanced over all the familiar faces, their forms and features half hidden in shadows, as they talked quietly, drank from their mugs, or dozed. Across from her, upon a pile of boxes, three minstrels were arranging themselves and their instruments. Jane _knew _that as soon as they started to play, she would fall asleep.

Someone stepped softly behind her, then sank down next to her. She turned a smile to Thor—he returned it, settling his broad frame, and took a sip from his own drink.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, reaching up to tuck her fleece blanket more securely around her shoulders. She nodded.

"Yes, thank you," she said quietly. "Actually, the last few months I haven't minded the cold at all."

"Something to do with carrying a Frost Giant in your belly, I suppose," Thor chuckled, taking another drink. "Even a very, very small one at the moment."

"You know, that's what I love about you, Thor," Jane teased. "You're so delicate."

He snorted.

"Speaking of delicate," he looked around the room. "Where is my brother?"

Jane took a breath, then sighed.

"Over there."

"Where?"

"All the way over there," Jane nodded, indicating a lone corner all the way across from them. She could just see Loki's profile, backlit by a single lamp. He sat like the rest of them, but he leaned back against a large trunk, a book in his lap, its pages tilted toward the flame. He sat as motionless as a statue. Thor heaved an even bigger sigh.

"I am sorry," he shook his head. "I thought, with you here this year, he would relent in his usual practice." He set his mug down, and gazed solemnly across at Loki. "It seems I was wrong."

Jane frowned at Thor. The firelight ruddied his complexion, and deepened the luster of his hair. His eyebrows drew together as he continued to study the shadowy form of his brother.

"He does this every year?" Jane asked. "I thought it was just because _you _are king now."

"No," Thor shook his head. "It has been the practice in Asgard for countless years to give grand gifts to the king upon Christmas Day. The grandest you can muster, even at great cost. Loki has always striven harder than anyone in the entire household to impress…well, our father." Thor shrugged uncomfortably. He gave her a sideways glance. "I don't suppose he's been sleeping nights."

Jane shook her head, surprised.

"No—not for at least a month."

Thor nodded, resigned.

"Not eating well—and _this _year he has been spending more time than necessary at the Academy, has he not?"

"Yes," Jane said, her chest tightening. "I'm worried about him."

Thor smiled kindly.

"Do not worry too hard. As I said, this has been his habit ever since he came of age."

Jane, pained, gazed over the fire at her husband again.

"That makes me sad," she murmured.

"Truly?" Thor said, as if confused. She nodded, not taking her eyes from Loki.

"I've always had so much fun at Christmastime. I wish he could, too."

"What did you do?" Thor wondered. Jane turned back to him, her heart lifting a little. She allowed a smile.

"Well we…My parents and I would go to a tree farm and cut down a tree, and we'd set it up in our house and decorate it with all kinds of ornaments. Some from when Mom was little, some that I made in school. Just dinky little things, out of popsicle sticks…" Jane's memories drifted back, her eyes unfocused. "We'd give presents to everybody, not just important people. And they didn't have to be expensive, but sometimes they were." She abruptly laughed. "_I'd_ always ask for expensive things, like telescopes and microscopes and huge astronomy books…" She wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. Suddenly, the back of her throat hurt. "When I was little, I was more concerned about what _I _would get for Christmas. Now I…I wish I could give my parents a few presents, you know?" She gave a watery look to Thor—who watched her intently. "Things that they'd like. Things they'd have fun with. Seeing them open something they'd enjoy would be…" She swallowed, unable to go on. Thor gazed at her, silent. She swallowed again, looking away.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"I hope you are not sorry, Jane Foster," Thor said quietly. "I am not sorry to have listened to you."

She looked up at him—his blue eyes softened. She smiled again, and he answered it. Then, he turned and gazed over the fire, at the minstrels.

The three men sat quite motionless, their instruments limp in their laps. And then, in a low, almost imperceptible tone, they began to hum.

A deep note, a meandering, grave melody. Haunting. And sharp with sadness.

Jane's thoughts melted, and she straightened, captivated.

The other men in the room silenced their conversations, and sat up, attending to the musicians. And they took breaths, and began to join. Thus, a quiet, chesty thrum pulled through the still air of the tent, even as the canvas peak was disturbed by an uneasy, restless wind.

The musicians opened their mouths. And in that same deep, slow melody, they began to sing.

"_In days of old when fire burned_

_Upon the peak of Iron Fist_

_A king of ancient power ruled_

_His gold brow fair, his right hand just."_

Jane felt a collective breath draw through the crowd, and the men, their eyes lowered—began to sing as well. Even Thor, his head bowed, his brow furrowed.

"_And over all the realm there hung_

_A deep and settled peace forsooth_

_His watchful heart, his noble heart_

_Beat strong within a mighty breast._

_Alas, these days of beauty failed_

_The light was destined to grow dim_

_A shadow fell across the hall_

_And bore away his dearest kin."_

A slow ache started in Jane's heart as the music flowed through her—soft, ancient sorrow flooding every note. Absently, she blinked and looked across the flickering flames…

To see Loki gradually lift his head, raising his attention from the book. His profile, black and indistinct, settled like stone as he listened.

"_A life for life—he must lay down_

_Lash for lash upon the back_

_Redeemed the sons of hallowed halls_

_At price of their own sire's blood."_

The words ended. The steady, sad hum continued for another verse, slowly softening, until it faded to nothing.

Silence followed. No one spoke.

"That…" Jane finally managed, barely a whisper to Thor. "Why is that a Christmas song?"

Thor did not move. But he took a breath.

"An old story," he murmured. "And one that Loki should tell you."

Jane watched him for a moment, then nodded. And with that, Thor arose to find his pallet next to his father, leaving Jane to study the fire as it swayed, the words of the ageless song thrumming through her mind.

LJLJLJLJL

_"Heave_-ho! _Heave -_ho! _Heave-_ho!"

Jane clasped her hands together, an electric thrill racing through her body as she stood in the center of the great feasting hall. Midday sun streamed in from the high windows, catching the frost that shook loose of the _tree_.

The biggest, grandest Christmas tree Jane had ever seen in her life. On the last day of the Snow Festival—two days before Christmas Eve—the men had ventured out into the wilds to find the perfect specimen, and once they had found and felled it, they had summoned a special sledge from Asgard—the largest sledge in existence. It took thirty horses to pull it, and even _they_ strained when the great tree was laid down on it.

Now, the mighty evergreen, bound up by ropes and pullies and placed at the end of the hall, slowly, steadily righted as the men of the court tugged and yanked. Its tip cut into the sunlight, nearly touching the ceiling—it had to be three stories tall, this magnificent tree. The earthy scent of it washed through the room—Jane took a deep breath, grinning like a little girl. Several men darted underneath the tree's lowest boughs, scrabbling through the needles to secure the stand.

Loki strode up beside Jane, dressed in long, flowing, dark green velvet embroidered with silver—some of his finest clothes. He cast a critical gaze up and down the tree, then took a breath.

"Do we have it?"

"Yes, your highness!" came the answering call, and a wide-eyed, tow-headed young man bustled out from beneath the tree, needles covering him. Loki nodded.

"Very well—let it go!"

The men swarmed across the tree, and untied it—and in a few minutes, it stood free.

"Oh, Loki, it's gorgeous," Jane murmured.

"It's not even decorated yet," Loki answered, preoccupied. He turned around, and motioned to someone at the other end of the room. Jane faced that way too, to see six young people nervously step forward across the brown marble floor. They all wore fine deep green as well, though the fabric was plainer. To Jane, they looked to be about sixteen years old—though she knew they were probably much older—older than _she _was! Three girls, three boys. One red-headed girl (her hair was a bushy mess) and one brunette boy. All the others had blonde curly hair, and every one of the kids had wide, sky-blue eyes and fair skin. Loki strode toward them, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You have been chosen for this honor because of your flawless performances in conjuring, tactile magic and inventiveness," he said, walking back and forth in front of them, intently watching their faces. "Your professors have praised your skills highly." He paused heavily. "I am sure you will make me proud."

"Yes, Master," they all answered, nodding quickly—and the red-headed girl blushed. Jane hid her smile.

"Asdis and Finnur," Loki pointed to a blonde girl and boy. "Color of any kind. Glass figures, ribbons, orbs, crystals. Brinya and Haraldur," he pointed to a blonde girl and the brunette boy. "Frost! Ice! But no cold, and no wet," he held up a warning finger. "Not a trace. Understand?"

"Yes!" they answered hurriedly. Loki turned and smiled at the last two—the remaining blonde boy and the messy red-haired girl. "Geir? Eydis?"

"Yes?" the girl, Eydis, looked at Loki eagerly. Loki's smile warmed.

"You may do the holly."

The girl's whole face lit up.

"Thank you, Master! You will not regret it, I promise!"

"Come on, Eydis," the blonde boy—a tall, good-looking one—tugged on her hand, trying to get her attention.

"Thank you, thank you!" Eydis said to Loki again, whilst being tugged away. The students dashed out into the hall, Jane covering her mouth. Loki saw it, and frowned at her.

"What are you laughing about?"

"You have an admirer," Jane crossed her arms and winked at him. His eyes flashed.

"What?"

"Eydis," Jane gestured to the red-head. "She has a major crush on you."

Loki was puzzled.

"A crush?"

"She likes you," Jane clarified. Loki sighed and shook his head.

"Yes, poor Geir."

"Why?"

"Oh, he's hopelessly in love with her," Loki folded his arms too, assessing the tree. "Someday she'll realize it."

Chuckling, Jane stepped up and wrapped her arms around Loki's left arm—which felt warm and very soft, for the velvet. Instantly Loki turned, bound her up in a tight sideways hug, nuzzled down and kissed her quickly on the neck. She giggled, and he released her, then strode out toward the tree. Jane wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly intrigued as she caught sight of Loki's students approaching various places in the hall, stopping and discussing. The rest of the court settled back to watch, too.

Then, Asdis and Finnur deliberately drew near the great tree. Narrowing her eyes, Jane watched as Asdis carefully rubbed her hands together. Red light flashed between her fingers. Then, keeping her hands clasped, she raised them to her lips and _blew_.

Long, sparkling red ribbons shot out from the other side of her hands, leaping up the side of the tree as if it were climbing. She snapped her fingers—the ribbon anchored in high boughs and its curling ends cascaded down, almost to the floor. On the other side, Finnur clapped his hands, then slapped the air—

And a blue glass ball shot out and up and danced into place amongst the highest branches. He did this again and again, rapid fire—and each time a different color bulb, glimmering perfectly as Venetian glass, darted up into the tree. Asdis kept up with him, her shimmering ribbons fluttering and tumbling, covering the tree with color.

Jane wouldn't have pulled her attention away from _this_ for _anything_—except new movement caught her eye. She glanced to the left…

And saw Geir and Eydis, deep in concentration, rubbing their hands against each _other's_. Eydis' right hand earnestly rubbed his left, and her left rubbed his right. They met each other's eyes, drew their hands together to one place…

And they stepped back.

Jane gasped.

A thick garland of richly-colored, twinkling holly materialized between them—and stretched and grew the further they parted from each other. Eydis let out a ridiculous laugh, and Geir grinned. When it hung about twenty feet long. Eydis called, "One, two, _three!" _And they bent, and threw the holly up into the air—

It swung toward the golden wall, and hung itself in a wild-but-elegant manner, as if it had taken hours to arrange it just so. Jane gave a small squeal, bounced up and down on the soles of her feet and bit her lip—she couldn't contain herself.

The flurry of precise and wondrous movement continued. The tree was soon drenched in glass figures and waterfalls of ribbon. Holly decked every straight edge of the ceiling and wound up and around every pillar. Then, as Finnur and Asdis retreated from the tree, Brinya and Haraldur neared it. They looked at each other, stood on either side of the tree, raised their hands…

And began briskly dusting off their left palms, as if knocking flour onto the tree…

And it _did _look like flour, at first. White powder dashing off their hands and onto the green boughs…

Until it hit. And then it burst into clouds of snow, which gushed down over everything, freezing and sparkling and dripping into pointed icicles.

"Oh. My," Jane tried, but couldn't finish. From top to bottom, ice and snow lighted upon the whole tree, not _concealing _the decorations, but enhancing them with wintery majesty. Then, when Brinya and Haraldur were satisfied, they split off, and turned their attention to the holly. Both of them raised their left arms to rest the heel of their hands against their chins. Then, they took deep breaths and, once again, _blew_.

Frost clouded from their lips and caught upon the holly garlands, coating them with silvery sparkles that made the berries look even brighter.

Jane saw Loki watching them all—watching them with tenseness in his frame, his arms still folded. Then, he began to stride from couple to couple, speaking with them, pointing at various places in the hall. They nodded, and then hurried to make whatever amendments he had commanded. He looked intent, deliberate—but not happy. Jane resolutely turned away from him, and kept watching the frost burst in clouds through the upper air.

And then, the hall fell quiet and still. The students lowered their arms. With long, careful strides, Loki made three rounds of the hall, sweeping his emerald gaze across everything, his brow furrowed, his mouth set. He paused directly in front of the tree, looking up at it for an endless moment.

Then, he nodded.

The children started breathing again, and gave relieved smiles to each other.

And Loki swung around, and walked with grand purpose back toward Jane.

"What now?" she asked. He glanced at her.

"The hardest part," he murmured, stopped and faced the tree. "The light."

Jane opened her mouth.

Loki brought his hands together in a thunderous _clap._

A million tiny golden lights burst into being, leaping across the boughs of the tree like countless fairies, then settling with shivering excitement upon the tip of every single needle. The student's eyes grew wide as saucers. Jane's heart stopped.

Loki took a deep breath, brought his hands together, swept them down, then back up…

A deep glow started at the center of the tree, shooting up from the trunk to the tip—

And the snow and ice began twinkling from within with reds and blues and yellows. Loki made a swift, broad backhanded motion with his right hand, then his left, and billions of flame-like tongues of orange and red leaped to life amongst the holly garlands, making the leaves appear as if they were tipped in liquid gold. Then, he brought both hands close to his face and cupped them around his mouth. He exhaled a low, fathomless breath—Jane saw the skin of his hands turn sapphire and gray—he blinked, and his eyes glowed scarlet for a moment. Then—

He lightly clapped his hands up toward the ceiling. A gray dart of cloud shot up, struck the alabaster…

And _snow_ cascaded down from every beam, every rafter. Jane yelped, watching it shower down…

And it vanished into thin air, just ten feet above her head. She tried again to make some sort of awestruck exclamation, but her mind wouldn't work well enough. She turned toward Loki—

He wasn't finished.

His hands were clasped tightly together, pressed against his heart, his head bowed, his eyes closed.

Everyone stood utterly still, holding his breath, as Loki seemed to be gathering all the concentration and force in his being.

All at once, with a swift, powerful movement, Loki flung out his hands toward the tree, his eyes flying open—

And a light—a light grander, brighter, more piercing and more fantastic than Jane had ever seen—_cracked _into being like a firework at the very top of the tree.

Breathless, she stared at it.

No one moved.

It radiated white beams of sharp illumination, its very heart almost blinding, its presence quiet, still, solemn and captivating. Its light caught the falling snow, making each flake glitter like shavings of diamonds. They all gazed up at this star, suddenly serious, as if they were seeing something totally different from the other merry trimmings.

Thoughtfully, Jane turned, and studied her husband.

He gazed up at the star as well, as if he were alone in the room. Its light reflected off his eyes and gave color to his features. His features, which carried an odd expression—an expression of almost…familiarity.

Jane smiled, and stepped toward him. She kissed the back of his shoulder, and squeezed his upper arm.

"It all looks beautiful."

He didn't answer, but his warm fingers rested on hers.

LJLJLJLJL

Night had fallen a long time ago. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving the palace solemn and quiet. Any movement the watchmen made echoed through the empty, darkened halls.

Loki stood alone in the great feasting hall, his arms folded, gazing up at the tree once more. The conjured snow had ceased. All of the other lights had been put to sleep for the night, but the star at the very top never slept. It twinkled at him, casting pure, silvery light down upon everything around it. It almost seemed to be hanging in the night sky, for its beams caught the snow upon the boughs, and turned the marble floor to white.

Loki's whole frame felt sore, tired. He bit the inside of his lip, casting about for any more errors in his students' design. He couldn't see any, but the light in here was bad, now. Any adjustments would have to wait until tomorrow morning. Christmas Eve.

He took a low, tight breath, lowered his arms, turned and silently left the hall. He swept like a shadow through the corridors, passing the flicker of drowsy torches, keeping especially quiet when he passed people's chamber doors. After ascending several flights of stairs, passing curtained balconies, and skirting the library, he came to his own rooms.

The door hung slightly open. Soft firelight flickered within. Loki paused, then reached out with his right hand and gently pushed the door open. He slipped inside, his eyebrows drawing together. He'd thought she would be asleep by now…

Jane sat within, on a low-backed, cream armchair. She still wore her day dress—a long-sleeved, form-fitting evergreen-colored garment subtly embroidered with red poinsettias. The lengthy skirt of it tumbled down around her feet. She leaned her right elbow on the armrest, and her fingers pressed softly against her lips. Her long hair, gently curling, fell elegantly across her shoulders and down her back, a few strands gracefully crossing her fair brow. Her face—beautiful, flawless and soft—tilted toward the fire. Dark brown, long-lashed eyes graced by eloquent eyebrows absently gazed at the golden flames. Those same eyebrows were drawn together, sharpening her peaceful expression. And tears filled her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Loki stopped.

For a long moment, all he could hear was his heart, which had picked up to beat heavily against his breastbone. Then, he eased inside, shut the door behind him, and ventured across the rug toward her. Cautiously, fearfully watching her every feature, he slipped out of the dark and into the light.

She saw him, blinked, and instantly gave him a bright, broken smile.

"Hello, sweetheart," she greeted him, reaching up to wipe away her tears. "How did everything turn out?"

Loki did not answer. The pain hidden in her voice filled his blood, and sent an ache through all his limbs.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, his tone low and careful.

"Oh, just…hormones," she waved it off, swiping at her eyes again and turning toward the fire. "And I'm kinda tired."

Loki waited. And he watched in anguish as her expression shattered again, and more tears spilled.

"I just…" Jane said shakily, trying to brush back her tears with both hands but not succeeding. "I was just…Just thinking about my…mom this evening. And my dad."

Loki stepped nearer, making no sound with his feet. He knelt down in front of her, his long coat draping out behind him, and he gathered her hands up in his and gently rubbed them. He tilted his face up toward hers and raised his eyebrows, to show he was listening. Jane's tears kept falling, and she struggled to control herself. But she, trembling, squeezed his hands back, and kept talking.

"I miss them a lot at Christmastime," she confessed, her voice quivering. "We were always together, just the three of us, around this time of year. Playing in the snow and…and decorating the tree and…and I'd go shopping with my mom." She stopped, and had to swallow hard.

"Mhm," Loki nodded, urging her to go on even as he scooted closer, resting his arms on her lap. He never took his eyes from her face. She smiled again, weakly.

"And we'd…We'd go to Grandma's, before she died. And I'd bake cookies with her, and help her put up the lights." She stopped again. Loki's grip on her tightened gently. A sob snagged in her throat, but she calmed, blinked her watery eyes open, and gave him a braver smile—then looked down.

"I'm so sorry," Loki whispered, his chest tight. "I wish there was something I could do to make you happier."

She immediately frowned.

"Oh, no. No, no," she shook her head, then leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, hurriedly kissing him there and then on his temple. Loki's eyes closed, and he leaned into her even as she wrapped her arms around his head. He laid the side of his head against her heart, enveloping her slender form in his arms. He felt her rest her cheek on his crown, then kiss his head, then nuzzle down against him. She stroked her fingers through his hair. Loki took a deep breath of her scent, his bones weary.

"I love you so much it hurts me," Jane murmured. "You're the happiest part of my life."

He lifted his head a moment and kissed her throat, then pressed his ear to her heartbeat again, and there they stayed, long into the night.

_To be continued…_

_Review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Christmas is nearly upon us! I hope you continue to enjoy this festive tale. I have certainly enjoyed bringing it to you!_

_For the FIRST section, I listened to "Gregorian Chant, Christmas Chants." Love the ancient feel._

_For the SECOND, I listened to Robert Shaw Chamber Singers: Coventry Carol, then "In Rosa Vernat Lilium~The Nativity Story OST." Quietly! It is awesome. Also, the Norwegian song is entitled "__Mitt hjerte alltid vanker," if you'd like to listen to that, too:)_

_Enjoy!_

_VVVVV_

_THREE_

"_Love is who we are_

_And no season can contain it._

_Love would never fall for that."_

_-Love is Christmas_

Christmas Eve.

Jane, clothed in an extremelyelegant, fur-lined scarlet dress and wearing her silver, emerald-studded circlet braided ornately through her hair, hurried through the dark, abandoned halls. Her brow furrowed as she peeked quickly into each empty room she passed. Her boots tapped loudly against the marble.

Movement caught her eye ahead of her—she jerked to a stop.

"Sif!" Jane cried, pressing a hand to her heart. "You scared me!"

Sif, clad in a beautiful silver dress, her hair unbound, frowned at her from the end of the hall.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for Loki," Jane answered, walking toward her. "Have you seen him?"

Sif's black eyebrows went up.

"Loki?" she repeated. "Loki does not go anywhere on Christmas Eve. Ever."

"What? Why not?" Jane demanded.

"He's always in his tower," Sif gestured upward. "Putting the finishing touches on his Christmas gift for the king."

Jane stamped her foot. Sif blinked in surprise—but Jane couldn't help it anymore.

"That is _it,_" Jane declared. "I have put up with it the _whole _season, but I am _not _putting up with it on Christmas Eve. He is coming to church with us if I have to drag him by his ear."

"Jane—"

"Go on ahead, Sif. Tell everyone to start walking," Jane advised, turning and heading toward the staircase. "We'll catch up."

"If you say so," Sif muttered, sounding doubtful, and headed toward the doors, outside of which waited the rest of the royal family and the court. Jane hurried up the steps, picking up her skirt as she went, then took the self-propelled lift to the height of the palace, the tallest tower. She stepped off the lift, and into a narrow corridor she knew so well she could have walked it in her sleep. She went there almost every day, to assist with research and observation and recording: the sky-map room. Otherwise known as Loki's Looking Glass.

Sure enough, the door hung ajar, and a meager light leaked out from it. Jane strode right up to the door, pushed on it, and stepped through.

Loki sat at a high desk at the far end. The surface of it, and the edges of his features, were lit by a single brass lamp. A huge volume lay open before him—he frowned intensely at it, sitting absolutely motionless, hands clasped in his lap.

"Are you coming?" Jane called.

He jumped, then twisted to see her.

"Oh," he managed, then rubbed his eyes. "I…thought you'd gone."

"Without you?" Jane countered, stepping further in.

"I can't go," Loki shook his head, turning back to the book. "Far too much work to do."

Jane threw her hands out to the sides.

"What can you _possibly _have left to do? You've been working on this presentation for _months_."

"I have a dreadful feeling I'm missing something," Loki murmured.

"You are," Jane said. "Christmas Eve at the kirk."

"I never go to that," Loki muttered.

"I know, Sif told me," Jane answered. "But you've also never had a _wife _to escort before."

Loki didn't look at her. He started reading the book again.

"Loki, I'm _not _going by myself," Jane determined.

"You're not by yourself," he said absently. "The whole court is going."

"With their _families_," Jane said. "I'll be the _only _woman who is married whose husband isn't there!"

"No one will notice."

"Loki."

The soft plea in her voice must have penetrated his concentration. He lifted his head, turned his pale face and looked at her. She met his gaze for a moment, then walked up to him, took up his chilled hand and held it in both of hers.

"Come with me," she whispered, searching his face. "Please? Come be with me on Christmas."

Loki looked back at her, his brow furrowing. She felt him hesitate.

"Thor says there's a story you have to tell me," she added. He blinked.

"A story?"

"About the song they sang the first night of the Snow Festival, in the tent," Jane clarified. "And _I _want to know about that star."

"What star?" he asked—but he was instantly listening to her with rapt attention.

"Above the tree in the great hall," she said. He half smiled in resignation.

"I never can get that right."

Jane's eyebrows went up.

"It's beautiful!"

He shook his head.

"Never as good as the original."

Jane stared at him. He did smile now, stood up off his stool, pulled her close and kissed her temple.

"Come," he said, drawing her toward the door. "I'll tell you that story."

LJLJLJLJLJ

Jane pulled her long, fluttering black cloak tight at her throat, keeping the hood up, as she and Loki swept side-by-side out into the chilly night. The paved way before them was lit by tall flaming lamps decked with wreaths. Ten billion stars and colorful galaxies twinkled in the sky far overhead. In the distance ahead of them, Jane could see the crowd of courtiers, all bunched together, hurrying down the lane. Then, Loki leaned toward her. She leaned toward him too, her arm touching his, and he began to speak to her in a low, tale-spinning tone.

"Long ago," he began. "When I had just come of age—I was just past one-hundred years, then—I was alone in my tower, studying the stars through a mirror device. And deep in the night, I saw it." He paused, remembering. "A light. A star. Unequal to any I had ever seen—and have ever seen since. It traveled, it shone…I cannot explain it." He shook his head minutely as they walked. "I hurried to my father, and bade him come see it. He did. He was shaken. Together with the other star-watchers of the kingdom, we studied it—and realized it had come from Midgard. But it was a residual light—perhaps something that had already come and gone long ago. But we had to be certain. We determined to travel there. Thor begged to come along on this adventure, and so my father, Thor and I leaped upon the bifrost and made the journey to Midgard."

Jane glanced up at Loki—studied his solemn, distant expression beneath the light of a passing lamp, though it was half hid in the cowl of his cloak. They turned a corner in the lane. Their feet trod upon cobblestones, and trees rose up on either side. Fairy lights winked in the reaches of the branches, illuminating Jane and Loki's way as well as the lamps. Jane took a breath of the cold air, and kept listening.

"We landed somewhere in the wilds of Norway," Loki kept on. "It was bitterly cold, frost-locked and snowy. It was early December there, they said. We found a village, and, not wishing to draw attention, tried to appear as though we belonged among them. I used a spell to give us the ability of All-Tongue, so that we could understand the mortals, and they us. However, despite our efforts, our grand clothing betrayed us, and the people immediately gave us deference. Managing to keep up the guise that we were mortal, however, we told them that we were three noblemen in search of a traveling star. We had seen it, we said, and wanted to know what it meant. They puzzled over us then, until the elders seemed to come to some conclusion—a realization. They did not tell us what that realization was, but we suddenly seemed familiar to them. They told us to travel south-west. So we did. We had to cross a bitter sea, many mountains and borders, and switch to many different languages. But in each city we entered, when we told them that we were noblemen seeking a star, they appeared to recognize us, and told us to keep going.

"We passed into a part of the world that even my father had never been to. A warmer place, where the people were dark, their clothing strange. And when we gave our usual account of ourselves, a small amount of fear, or awe, accompanied their helpfulness. They told us we were very near our destination. We were intrigued that they knew what we meant, but we did not understand why they were sending us to a place on the plane of the _earth_—unless it was to speak to scholars and astronomers. We concluded this must be the case when we came to a particular city and they began directing us to a certain portion, then to a certain building."

Just as Loki said this, the two of them rounded a corner, and up in front of them loomed a great stone structure. Jane slowed, gazing up at it. Stoic, thick and majestic, it towered high as the trees. Soft golden light lit the outside walls, weathered and beaten, bearing carved runes around its ancient foundation stones. At its furthest height, at the tower, the familiar sign of the One-In-Three—what Jane recognized as a trinity knot—marked the rock. And above it had been carved, in ages past, a four-pointed star.

The building's tall, arched wooden front door hung open, and warmth and light spilled out from within. Jane could smell pine from inside, too. Loki paused, giving her a soft look, and held out his arm to her. Smiling, Jane wrapped her arm around his, and strode up the steps and into the entryway.

Together, they passed through the small, darkened foyer, and up into the long, towering, reaching chamber.

A worn stone floor, decorated with more runes and twisting, unfathomable knots, made every footstep resound. Lines of white, massive pillars on either far side stood as unmoving sentinels, unchanged by the centuries except for the fresh garlands wrapped around them. Black, iron chandeliers, suspended by great chains from the ceiling, glowed with candlelight and holly wreaths. Wooden benches stood to either side of the main aisle, most of them filled with lavishly-clothed members of the court.

Jane hesitated, her gaze catching on something on the wall off to her left. An ancient painting on the wall itself, of three bearded men in profile, colorfully garbed like Persians, carrying boxes or bottles, facing the way Loki and Jane were walking.

Then, she looked to the right. And she stopped altogether.

Painted in exact parallel to those three bearded men were three very different men. One was tall and blonde and young, clad in scarlet. The next was willowy and dark and pale, wearing black. The last had white hair, and wore gold. They held their hands out as well—but their hands were empty, and their heads hung low. And at the front of the chamber, at the end of the aisle upon a dais, dominating all attention, hung a giant, multi-pointed star of solid gold, lit by forty candles.

"Loki…?" Jane whispered, but couldn't say anything else. Without a word, Loki drew her off to the side, into the shadows behind the pillars, up closer to the base of that giant stucco. He held her still there, gazing up at the cracked, peeling paint, keeping his voice down to barely a whisper.

"At the end of it all, we found a tall building of pale stone," he breathed. "We went in. It was an old, cool, dark place. Marble and granite. It smelled like incense. They were getting ready for a celebration. And there on the wall we discovered a depiction of three men bearing gifts." Loki shook his head. "Our confusion was beyond description. Then, the mortals that found us there told us the story of these men, and what—_who—_they had been seeking."

Jane couldn't believe what she was hearing—but she didn't dare interrupt him. Loki turned, and gazed toward the golden star.

"It was this very event the mortals were preparing to celebrate. And of course, we were baffled," he whispered. "The almighty power in the form of a child? Born in a filthy _barn_?" Loki went silent—and he stayed that way so long that Jane thought he was finished. Then, he took a slow breath.

"We were all very troubled—curious to the point of pain. Even Thor, and especially my father. We listened to everything they told us, and remembered everything they showed us. They even told us that he was not born during this particular time—he was born in the spring—but they celebrated it in the winter in place of several other ancient festivals." His bright eyes grew even more distant, unfocused. "We returned to Asgard in an agony of uncertainty—and then my father called upon Heimdall. Heimdall had been a gate-keeper for a very long time—but not _the _gatekeeper. We had recently learned that he could see further and deeper than the gatekeeper we had—and that he could, by simply grasping our hands, show us what was happening that moment on any realm, _or_…" Loki sighed. It shook slightly. "He could show us what he remembered seeing. Even if it happened a thousand years ago."

"You…" Jane whispered, throat tight. "You saw him, then?"

Loki smiled—mysteriously, but softly.

"I saw what Heimdall saw. But yes."

"What…What was he like?" Jane could barely hear herself—she could hardly make her mouth work. She watched him fixedly, waiting for his answer. Loki ducked his head, his smile gaining even more mystery. He finally lifted his head, and glanced at her sideways.

"When we can find a quiet moment, I will take you to Heimdall," he promised, squeezing her hand. "You can see for yourself."

Jane's heart skipped a beat—but then quieted as Loki's quiet mirth faded into an expression that almost looked like…

Sorrow.

"We had missed so much, here in Asgard," he murmured. "My father could not understand what could have distracted us so much that such a thing had come to fruition without our seeing it. We had seen nothing, _given _him nothing. And I did not understand anything of it, except the obligations that gradually arose from it." He lifted one shoulder then, in a slow shrug that seemed to hurt. He turned, and gazed across at the three strangely-garbed men. "Until recently."

Jane frowned—but the tone of his voice sent a strange pang through her, down to the center of her stomach. And then, when he spoke next, she knew fully what he meant.

"It wasn't until…_quite_ recently that I finally understood him. What he was doing." Loki whispered. His voice grew unsteady. "That I understood…what a father would do to get back even one child that he'd lost." He swallowed—and Jane saw his eyes shining.

"Anything," Loki breathed. "He would do anything."

Jane gulped back sudden tears, and leaned her face into his arm. She didn't speak.

Just then, the crowd out in the chamber quieted, and a pure, boy's voice resounded like a bell through the warm air. The tune, melancholy and strong, thrilled through all of Jane's nerves, pressing on the center of her heart. Jane listened with all her might, her eyes closed, her face pressed against Loki's warmth.

"_Mitt hjerte alltid vanker  
i Jesu føderom, _

_der samles mine tanker _

_som i sin hovedsum. _

_Der er min lengsel hjemme, _

_der har min tro sin skatt; _

_jeg kan deg aldri glemme _

_velsignet julenatt!" _

LJLJLJLJ

After all the music had been played and sung, and the candles extinguished, the whole court spilled merrily out of the kirk and half danced back toward the palace. Loki let Jane pull on his hand until they caught up with the jewel-covered, regally-clothed Thor, Sif and Steven, at the head of the procession.

"Little brother! _What _are you doing here?" Thor cried, throwing his arm around Loki's shoulder. Loki rolled his eyes, but couldn't quite keep himself from smiling.

"What?" Loki feigned ignorance, shrugging Thor's arm off his shoulders, but staying near him.

"Ha!" Sif laughed from the other side of Thor. "Jane, you are a miracle-worker!"

Jane grinned proudly, and gripped Loki's hand.

"What's going on?" Steve wondered.

"My brother has not come to the kirk on a Christmas Eve in over an age," Thor explained.

"_Some_ people have work to do," Loki countered.

"Not on Christmas Eve," Thor scoffed as they rounded the corner, and the golden towers of the palace waited in the distance.

"So says the man who hasn't had to give an _ounce _of thought to gift-giving this year," Loki cut in. "Because he is the _king."_

"Hasn't helped with preparations, either," Sif commented, giving him the eye. "Where _have _you been, Thor?"

But Thor only laughed—and Loki took a second look at him. Something secretive twinkled in his brother's eye. Loki's eyes narrowed.

"What are you planning?" he demanded.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Thor promised, striding out ahead of them. "But not a moment before!"

Jane seemed amused by this—she laughed—but Loki ground his teeth and tugged on her, trying to keep up. He _had_ to look over his books just _one _more time before morning…

_To be continued…_

_ Review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_With great love, I present to you the final chapter of this little ditty. I sincerely hope you enjoy!_

_VVVVV_

_FOUR_

"_Why so scared that you'll mess it up,_

_When perfection keeps you haunted?_

_All we need is your best, my love._

_That's all anyone ever wanted."_

_-Christmas is Love_

Loki felt faint, and clammy. He blinked rapidly, then slowly, trying to get the fuzziness to disappear from the edges of his vision. He took deep breaths, barely registering the thunderous applause that roared all around him.

He had just finished his grand Christmas Day presentation. Before the entire assembly of the vibrantly-dressed court, in the center of the golden throne room all decked out in Christmas majesty—and before his scarlet-and-armor-clad brother, _the_ _king_—Loki had delivered a copy of every single record of every single discovery made so far during his short headmastership of the Royal Magic and Science Academy of Asgard. Volume upon volume lay before the throne—a stack twice as high as the old headmaster's last year, and much more neatly-organized—besides being tremendously more impressive in content. After Loki had bestowed these at Thor's feet, he had introduced his straight-backed, prized students; loudly praised their accomplishments, and volunteered them for royal service should ever Thor call upon them. Then, with a swift _yank _on the twilight-colored drapery, Loki had unveiled his personal gift to the king:

The World Tree.

Wrought in gorgeous gold and silver, the tall, winding machine looked to be a work of art first, and functional second. And then, when Loki had brought it to life with a simple wave of his hand, the whole court had been stricken dumb.

The universe leaped into being, filling the cavernous throne room. Planets, stars, galaxies, nebula, all floated amongst the wide-eyed, glittering courtiers. Loki, waving an arm grandly, had declared that the king of Asgard could now _literally _walk amongst the heavens. And he need only reach out and touch a point of light that represented a star, or lay a fingertip against the surface of a holographic planet, and its name would blink to life above it, along with various information concerning its environment, its people, and its king. Loki demonstrated this capability with multiple realms and moons.

Needless to say, the entirety of the assembly had been wildly tickled, and as Loki bowed and turned off the machine, they had burst into ridiculous applause. Which Loki did not hear.

He had made a terrible mistake.

He had misspelled the name of one of Jotunheim's moons.

How? _How _could he have done something like that? In name and blood, he was the _king _of that realm—his twin brother _ruled _it—and he could not spell the name of one of its very own moons? _And _he had presented it to king and country in that condition, only _then _realizing his horrendous error?

Sick and weak, his armor and horned helmet feeling fartoo heavy, he managed to lift a polite hand to the court in acknowledgement.

Thor then arose, thanked everyone for the monstrous pile of gifts surrounding his throne, and in a booming voice invited them all to the Christmas feast that evening. And with a quick and merry dismissal from their king, the assembly began to mill about, turning to each other to discuss, or leaving the hall in laughing parties.

"That…was the most _fantastic_ thing I have ever seen," Jane, beaming, bright-eyed and beautiful in her green Christmas dress, hurried up to him and grabbed his hand. Her fingers felt warm and soft, and they shocked him back into crisp reality.

"Thank you," Loki nodded, then took a deep, bracing breath. She laughed.

"Glad that's over?"

"Yes," he confessed, feeling as though he might fall over. "_Yes_."

"Good," Jane smiled. "Then come on."

Loki frowned.

"Where?"

She tugged on him.

"Thor has a surprise."

"That…is impossible," Loki said, following her toward a side door.

"Ha, why?" Jane asked.

"Thor never plans anything."

"And _you_ never go to church," she shot back.

"_Well_…." Loki muttered.

They passed through a door, down a narrow corridor, and emerged in a much smaller, warmer, softer room. It was still luxuriously-furnished—part of the king's personal chambers—but decked in colors of browns and golds and creams. Thick carpets covered the floor, embroidered curtains hung by the sunny windows, lamps were lit, cushions and comfortable chairs waited, and a robust fire blazed in the wide, white-marble fireplace. It all smelled of chocolate, and spices. Loki's steps slowed.

Next to the fireplace stood a short evergreen tree. It was simply decorated with wooden ornaments, and lit by mere candles. Loki paused, staring at it. How had such simple charm been achieved…?

He noticed the other people in the room almost as an afterthought—and then they startled him. Thor, Steve, Sif, his father and mother all strolled toward the fire, holding hot drinks in their hands.

"Loki!" Thor called, without his armor now, wearing just his scarlet shirt, black trousers and boots. He smiled at Loki, and beckoned.

"Come in, Brother, and make yourself comfortable!"

"Erm," Loki reached up and fumbled with his helmet, then pulled it off, set it down, and self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. Then, he dusted off his armor—it fell away and disappeared with quick, efficient jingling. Beneath, he wore black and green, still with a high collar and long sleeves to hide his scarring—but he suddenly felt much more able to breathe.

"Come sit!" Thor commanded them all. "I have things for you!"

"Things for us?" Frigg's fair brow furrowed, her long white dress trailing behind her as she moved to a chair. She glanced up at Odin. "This isn't customary…"

"With every new king comes new traditions," A grandly garbed Odin smiled, clasping her hand. "And I, for one, am ready for a few."

Loki cast a quick look over at Steve. Though Loki had barely had time to notice during these last few days, when he _had _caught a glimpse of the former Midgardian, Steve had seemed quiet, overwhelmed and unsure. But now, at the sight of the simple tree, the fireplace and the chairs gathered round them, his frame eased, and a familiar light entered his eyes. Almost smiling, he drew near and sat down next to Frigg, who thoughtlessly took hold of his hand and twined her fingers through his whilst taking a sip of her drink.

Sif sat down on the other side of Steve, near to the tree and to Thor, who stood beside it. She smiled at Thor—in a twinkling, knowing way—but Loki knew better than to try and pry any information out of her.

Jane tugged on him again, and together they maneuvered around and sank into a short, cushioned couch opposite his parents. Loki sighed as he did, his bones aching. Thor turned, folded his arms, and assessed them all. His vivid blue eyes met all of theirs in turn—and Loki felt a twinge of curiosity pierce his suspicion and exhaustion.

"Thank you for coming," he said. "I know this is unusual for us, but I am told that on Midgard, this is common practice. Therefore, I am going to start a new tradition: giving gifts to our families."

Everyone suddenly looked at each other—and Loki instantly stiffened with panic.

"But we have no presents for each other!" Sif cried, putting Loki's fear into words. Thor raised his hands and shook his head.

"No, no," he insisted. "I said we're _starting _a new tradition. You may get gifts for each other next year."

The women stammered, the men glanced at each other—but Steven looked calm and comfortable, that half smile on his face. And Jane seemed nervous as well—or excited. Thor turned around, bent to the foot of the tree and picked up a small package wrapped in brown paper.

"First," he said, straightening to his great height. "I shall honor my father by giving him his gift."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Odin bowed as he took it, and sat down next to his wife. Frowning, Loki watched his father untie the twine and pull the wrapping off of the gift…

And Odin stared down in his lap at a pair of simply-decorated, worn leather bracers.

Indignation leaped into Loki's mind. These weren't new, they were not elaborate or jeweled, and they _certainly _wouldn't fit Odin's arms…

"Thor," Odin murmured, gazing at them intently. "Where did you find these?"

"What are they, dear?" Frigg asked, watching just as keenly. Odin picked one of them up, and turned it over in his hands.

"They belonged to my very first set of armor," Odin breathed, his one gray eye roving over the edges and surfaces of the bracer, even as his fingers did the same. "My father gave them to me upon my coming-of-age. He strapped them onto my arms himself." Odin suddenly swallowed, then cleared his throat. "I thought I had lost them."

Stunned, Loki shot a look at Thor—who was beaming at their father, watching his every movement. Odin lifted his eye to Thor, and nodded to him.

"Thank you, my son," he said, with deep sincerity. "For a moment you made me feel like a young man again."

Thor inclined his head in return. Then he turned, ducked, and picked up another package.

"To my mother," he said, and handed it to her.

"Thank you, Sunshine," she said, kissing his hand as she took the package. Sif leaned closer to watch the Queen Mother carefully unwrap her gift.

A startled expression crossed Frigg's face. Sif saw the gift right away, and a soft look came over her. Loki leaned forward, but couldn't see what it was over the paper.

"What?" Jane asked.

"It…" Frigg started, but didn't finish. With trembling fingers, she reached inside the wrappings and pulled out a little doll. It had a wooden head, hands and feet—the body was stuffed, it wore a faded blue velvet dress, and had horse's hair for a braid. But the way Frigg handled it, one would think it was made of gold.

"Her name is Asfrid," Frigg breathed. "I had her when I was a very little girl." She lifted shining eyes to Thor. "_Where _did you find these ancient things?"

"In a part of the palace that has been locked for longer than I've been alive, I think," Thor said, smiling. "I was curious one day, and—I found treasure."

Loki would have scoffed at the word "treasure"—if his throat had not been so tight. He blinked several times, trying to clear his suddenly foggy vision. Absently, he felt Jane take hold of his hand in both of hers and lean her head on his shoulder.

"And for you, my betrothed," Thor held out a package to Sif, then leaned in and kissed her sweetly on the forehead. She looked up at him, startled, then quickly unwrapped her present…

And pulled out a flashing, elegant Elvish throwing knife.

"Thor…!" she gasped.

"Haha, do you recognize it?" he crowed, kneeling down next to her to look at it as well, putting an arm around her.

"I…We were only _children_!" she said, her eyes wide as she held it up before her. "And you—"

"I took it, _knowing _that you liked it, and then I promptly lost it," Thor finished. He gestured to it. "But then, not a month ago, I found it again, stuck behind a trunk." He watched her face. "It's yours, love. I hope you still want it."

Sif turned, wrapped her arm around Thor's neck and kissed him on the mouth. Jane laughed out loud, released Loki's hand and clapped. Steve, Frigg and Odin chuckled. Sif released Thor—they gazed at each other for a moment, smiling, and he stroked a strand of hair out of her face.

"Thank you, my king," Sif said, a hint of playfulness in her expression. Thor winked at her, then stayed on his knees to turn and pick up Steve's present. Thor handed it to him, then settled down by Sif to observe. Steve's present was wider, flatter, and flimsier than the others. With great concentration, Steve pulled the twine loose, noisily moved the brown wrapper…

And pulled out a large, folded stack of yellowed paper, printed with small, black-inked text. Steve froze, utterly transfixed. Confused, Loki tilted his head to read the large print at the top:

**The New York Times **

_**THE WAR IN EUROPE IS ENDED!**_

_**SURRENDER IS UNCONDITIONAL;**_

_**V-E WILL BE DECLARED TODAY;**_

_**OUR TROOPS ON OKINAWA GAIN**_

And Steve started to cry.

Loki had never seen a man so openly weep—but Steve pressed his hand to his heart, nodding quickly, then desperately wiped his eyes.

"I asked the son of Coul if he could find something for you, something to remind you of home," Thor said quietly. "He said it was no trouble—though I believe _this _was very difficult to find."

Steve nodded again, set the paper aside and got up—Thor did the same—and Steve embraced him.

Jane laughed again—Loki looked at her. She was smiling at the two men and trying not to cry—no she _was _crying. She dashed away her tears with a shaking hand.

Steve pulled back from Thor and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Thank you," Steve said, his voice watery, his eyebrows drawn together. He sat back down and pulled the paper into his lap, carefully unfolding it and looking at it. "I…You have no idea what this means to me."

"You're welcome, Brother," Thor said fondly, and Steve gave him a long gaze that spoke more than any grand speech ever could.

"And now, for my other little brother," Thor said, handing Loki a brown-wrapped box with a look of such open affection that Loki couldn't speak. His hands felt weak and uncertain as he held the box between them…

Slowly, he undid the string, shuffled the paper out of the way, opened the lid of the wooden box…

And couldn't move.

There, in a bed of fine straw, lay a glass horse.

A multi-faceted, multi-colored prancing glass horse.

Loki reached out to touch it with his fingertips—then pulled back, gasping.

"The maker of the original has died, you remember," Thor said. "But I managed to find one of his apprentices, who did his best to replicate his master's work for you. It isn't perfect—but I hope it's acceptable."

Loki, chills racing all through him, finally dared to touch it—to pick it up, and gently lift it out of the straw. It felt lighter than an eggshell, and glimmered like it was made of melted pearl. It looked almost _exactly _like the one that had slipped through his hands and shattered all those centuries ago.

Loki tried to say something, tried to speak to his brother. He couldn't. He couldn't even look at him.

Thor reached out, and pressed a hand to the top of Loki's head. Pain shot down through Loki's chest, and his throat spasmed. He carefully set the horse back down into the box as Thor's hand lingered.

At last, Thor lifted his hand, and turned to Jane.

"Jane Foster," he said, and Loki was able to turn and look at her, at least. Thor had taken hold of both her hands, and gazed full into her smiling, tear-streaked face.

"You, who have brought so much light and beauty into the house of Asgard since the moment you arrived," Thor said. "I am grateful to say that _you _gave me this idea, of giving gifts to the ones I love. Therefore, this little celebration is in your honor."

"Thanks," Jane managed.

"And _this _is for you," Thor said, handing her her own wrapped package. She swiped at her face again, then hurriedly opened it.

"A book," Jane murmured, her brow furrowing as she ran her hand over the cover. "European Fairytales…" She lifted her head, and searched Thor's face. He only smiled.

"You have it about fifteen years too late, but I'm you have it now, nonetheless!"

The voice came from the other corner of the room. Everyone jumped, twisted—

To see Erik Selvig step out of a back closet, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, and smiling at Jane.

Jane flew to him.

"Erik!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. He hugged her tightly back.

"Oh, Merry Christmas, Jane," he kissed her hair. She pulled back, holding the book between them.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

"Thor came to get me this morning," Erik explained, gesturing to him. "Asked me to come to Asgard for Christmas." He shrugged. "It was a tough decision. I had to clear my busy schedule…"

Thor bellowed out a laugh, and the others joined.

"What…What do you mean, fifteen years late?" Jane asked him.

"I was up at my cabin in Norway just a couple weeks ago, doing some cleaning, and I found a suitcase buried underneath the bed. It was your mother's suitcase, Jane—she had left it there by accident during a trip. And this book was in it—it's for you. Read what she wrote on the inside."

Jane stared at him, then opened the front cover. She read to herself. Her brow twisted, more tears fell, and she leaned into Erik.

"Thank you, Erik."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he said. Then, still sniffling, Jane hurried over to Thor, embraced him and kissed him all over his face. Then, she plopped down next to Loki, gave him an earnest kiss on the lips, then leaned against his shoulder, clutching the book to her heart.

LJLJLJLJLJL

The great hall was filled with noise, laughter, music, and the scent of delicious food. But Loki sat just outside, on the balcony wall, gazing out over the darkened gardens, tears running down his face.

He sat that way in complete silence and stillness for hours. Then, footsteps. Footsteps he recognized as his father's.

"I'm glad to have found you," Odin's mild tones greeted him as he stepped out onto the balcony. "Your mother was asking where you were."

Loki twitched away from him, but knew he was too late—Odin had seen. Loki wiped at his face, his brows twitching together as he avoided looking even in Odin's direction.

"What is troubling you?" Odin asked, drawing nearer.

"Well, if you must know," Loki cleared his throat. "I have not slept properly for more weeks than I care to remember, nor have I eaten more than required to simply keep me alive. Not even today." He took a breath. "Besides which, I somehow feel as if I have been…utterly humiliated." He swallowed, then shook his head. "And because of _that_…I feel like a stupid, selfish child."

"Your gift was splendid, Loki," Odin assured him. Loki snorted and bitterly shook his head.

"Far inferior to Thor's," he muttered, folding his arms. "He surpassed me in _every _way today. And in a manner I could never meet."

"And you think he was trying to _compete _with you?" Odin prodded.

"No," Loki answered sharply. He lowered to a murmur. "Which is why he surpassed me."

Odin paused a moment, then stepped up to stand beside Loki, gazing out at the starry sky. Odin clasped his hands behind his back, his voice becoming careful and thoughtful.

"You feel that your pride has poisoned your gift to your brother?"

Loki did not speak. He closed his eyes.

"Loki," Odin said quietly. "Love and forgiveness are not granted to _any _of us upon the condition of our riches, our intellect or our achievement. It is given willingly. All we have to do in return is accept it."

"What are you saying?" Loki asked, eyes still closed.

"I am saying," Odin went on. "That even if you had been completely unable to give your brother _anything_ today, of all days—he would still love you, and think almost as highly of you as I do."

Loki's eyes came open, and he looked up into his father's face—his father, who smiled at him. Gently, Odin touched his shoulder.

"Come inside when you are ready," he advised. "We miss you." And he turned, and reentered the banquet hall.

For a very long time, Loki sat still, absorbing his father's words. Then, he stood up, head lowered, to go back inside—

And blundered right into Thor's arms.

In an instant, Loki was wrapped up in his brother's mighty embrace. Loki made no sound—just encircled him with his own arms, rested his chin on Thor's collar, and shut his eyes again.

Several minutes passed before they parted, and when Thor pulled away, he chuckled.

"Your gift is the best one I received today," he said, grinning at his brother and shaking his shoulders. "I love it."

Loki laughed breathlessly, wiping at his eyes again.

"You'd better," Loki warned, finally looking up at Thor's brilliant eyes.

"After everyone goes to bed some night, you and I must turn it on and you can show me everything it does, without interruption," Thor suggested, pointing at him. Loki half winced.

"Before we do that—there is something I must fix."

Thor frowned.

"Like what?"

"I made a mistake."

"What mistake?"

"I misspelled the name of Jotunheim's third moon. Well," he amended. "Part of the name got repeated."

"What is its real name?" Thor wondered.

"Niffelhaven," Loki said. Thor raised his eyebrows.

"And what did _you _call it?"

Loki's face heated up.

"Niffelhiffel."

Thor stared at him, then burst out laughing.

"It isn't funny—" Loki tried.

"Oh, yes it is," Thor chortled.

"I'm goingto change it back."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No—I like it that way."

"You can't stop me from changing it."

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't."

"If you do, I'll change it back."

"You don't know how."

"You'll teach me."

"_No_, I won't…"

And as this argument continued, Loki's heart lightened, and the two brothers wandered back in to the Christmas Feasting hall.

LJLJLJLJLJ

Jane eased into her darkened chambers, carrying two mugs of hot drink. She quietly swept across the carpet to the tall, open balcony where Loki stood, bathed in moonlight, gazing up at the twinkling stars.

"Here," she murmured, coming up beside him. He turned to her—his face like marble, his eyes bright.

"What's this?" he asked, taking the mug from her.

"Wassail," Jane said proudly. "It took me two hours to find all the right ingredients—you know how Cook gets when someone foreign is poking around in her kitchen."

Loki laughed, brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. He swallowed and nodded.

"Very good."

"Thank you," Jane said, snuggling up next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, taking a deep breath and sighing. Jane laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, listening to the steady thud of his heart.

"I've had more Christmases than I can count," Loki murmured, his voice resounding in her head. "But thisis the first year it has seemed _real_."

Jane smiled.

"Then Merry Christmas, my handsome prince."

She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Merry Christmas, _alskling_," he whispered.

"And just think," Jane added. "Next year, there will be _three _of us."

And at those words, warmth rushed through Loki's whole body, and she _felt _him smile.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!


End file.
